


Soul-Sick

by terroringlasses



Series: A Real Journey [1]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Thor (Movies)
Genre: Adulting, F/M, Hacker! Darcy Lewis, Multiverse, Slow Build, Slow Burn, darcy lewis is so done
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-10
Updated: 2020-04-10
Packaged: 2021-03-01 18:41:15
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 4,362
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23571763
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/terroringlasses/pseuds/terroringlasses
Summary: Darcy Lewis, post-internship, post-grad school, post-S.H.I.E.L.D., has to rebuild her life. When the opportunity to work at Avengers Tower pops up, she can't say no. However, her relationships and side gig...complicate things.
Series: A Real Journey [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1696696
Comments: 12
Kudos: 191





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This story takes place in some nebulous time span post-Civil War, post-Black Panther. Bucky is currently frozen.
> 
> There is NO Darcy/Bucky interaction in the first work. If you want romance, see work 2 in the series (currently writing work 3!). We are building to eventual Darcy/Bucky, though.
> 
> Credit to "Joe vs. the Volcano" for my titles.

As primly as she could, Darcy sat in the small waiting room, trying not to give away the fact that she was possibly a fraud. She felt like a fraud, at least, here on the 55th floor of Tony Stark’s tower, waiting for the most elegant woman she’d ever met.

Or, would meet, rather. Any minute now.

Pepper Potts was not late. That would be inconceivable. No, Darcy’s anxiety was swelling. Everything in her brain twisted around itself, teeming with nervous energy. She wasn’t sure why she’d been summoned. She had a shift at the coffee shop at 3. Her bag, brimming over with clothing more suited to slinging lattes, sat on the floor beside her uncomfortable chair. The bag also held her laptop.She figured she’d leave - whatever this was - and hit up the library beforehand. Maybe there’d be time to book a few of her off-the-books gigs.

Darcy was lost in thought, and was thus startled when the glass door swung open. Virginia Potts strode in, and those stilettos might as well have been roller skates. _God, her posture is impeccable,_ Darcy thought. An assistant followed closely behind, and another stood up from behind the desk. Darcy could only look on, wide-eyed.

“Hello, Miriam! Any calls?”

Miriam laughed. “Yes, Pepper, _many._ R&D would like to have a word with you, after your meeting with Ms. Lewis.”

Pepper smiled serenely. “Of course.” A tiny dimple dented her cheek, and Darcy was enthralled. It’d been thirty seconds; already the room felt warmer, and almost instantly that warmth was directed at her. “Darcy, I’m so glad to meet you. I’m Pepper Potts.” 

She gaped. “ Er, Darcy? I’m Darcy. Darcy Lewis.” She stood and took the extended hand, certain she would look back on this later and want to fling herself into traffic.

“Please come in. I’m sorry to have kept you waiting. Would you like something to drink?”

Darcy declined, limply holding up the bottle of water Miriam had offered her.

Once inside the office, Pepper directed Darcy not to the desk, but to a sofa nestled into the corner. Darcy sat down, plunking the bag once again on the floor. The lack of barrier unsettled her, made her less certain of whatever hierarchy was happening here. She was certain there was a hierarchy, though- Pepper was Stark, and Stark was S.H.I.E.L.D., and with S.H.I.E.L.D., there was always a hierarchy.

“I’m very pleased that you agreed to come meet with us. I hope you don’t mind, but I took the liberty of pulling your records from S.H.I.E.L.D.-”

Darcy tensed. “Well, they’re public knowledge now anyway, aren’t they?”

The slightest shadow crossed Pepper’s face. “Yes, they are at that.” She sighed. “Darcy, we’re very excited about you. There are very few non-enhanced humans who share your experience with these matters. The business with S.H.I.E.L.D. is, of course, very unfortunate, but your record speaks for itself.”

“My record?” Hysteria bubbled up in her. “You’ve talked to Jane, you mean.”

Pepper nodded. “Yes, and Erik Selvig. And...others.”

“How many others? Phil Coulson? Thor?” Pepper was silent. “You’ve talked to all of them?”

Pepper had her hands up in a conciliatory gesture, palms open. “Darcy, I realize your employment history has been a bit...unorthodox, but it’s actually quite typical to check references when you’re considering hiring someone.”

“References.” _Was she having a stroke?_ “Hiring.”

There was that dimple again. “Yes, we have a few positions we’d like you to consider.”

“A few?” The doubt crept back in. “Wait, who is ‘we?’”

“‘We’ is the Avengers.” Pepper sipped at her water.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Credit to "Joe vs. the Volcano" for my titles.

The library was quiet, and cool, and mostly empty at 11 a.m. Darcy felt bad for having stomped up the stairs, dragging her issues with her. She felt them as though they were literal baggage, temporarily shedding around her as she sat at a carrel. Her head met the desk in a loud ‘thunk” as disapproval emanated from the reference desk.

A job. Pepper Potts had offered her a job with the Avengers. Not just a job, but her choice of jobs. And goodness, what choices. The options swam in her brain. 

_“I’m sure that with your background, you’ll be interested in the Avengers’ Extraterrestrial Research. That’s a growth industry, of course.There are also positions available in public relations, research and development, and Emergent Enhanced Individuals Operations.”_

She could leave her crappy, unsafe apartment and the roommate who stole her panties.

_“We’re prepared to buy out your current lease, and offer you accommodations in Avengers Tower, as part of your compensation. Medical and retirement also included, of course.”_

She’d be able to pay off her student loans; graduate school had been expensive, and her compulsory career at S.H.I.E.L.D. had not paid commensurately. 

_“Monetary compensation would be a considerable increase compared to your previous position- I know, I’m sorry, but as you said, the records were out there. It’s not comparable to what you’d be making if you worked for, say, Stark Industries, but please consider the total value of the package we’re offering.”_

She could stop working at the coffee shop, stop taking on as many gigs.

_“Oh, if you’re interested, we could also create a position for you in our programming modification and decryption department.”_

_Darcy’s whole world stuttered to a halt. “Wait what.”_

Darcy had read her own file. It was pretty extensive; Coulson had been thorough, right down to every track on the “Culver Students Do It Gamma-Irradiated” playlist. However, she was certain he’d missed her more...extracurricular pursuits. White-hat cracking for corporations wasn’t explicitly against any S.H.I.E.L.D. directive or employee handbook she’d read. She’d made sure of that. After all, it wasn’t like she could afford to lose the only job Coulson hadn’t sabotaged for her.

After her falling-out with Jane, life had been weird and demoralizing. The breakup with Ian? No sweat. Mutual. Clean. Grad school? Finito. Accomplished, proof of paper and all. Trying to get another job with an entry as Jane Foster’s research assistant on her resume? Impossible. You’d think after achieving interplanetary travel, the doc would get a little more respect in the mainstream world. But no. No bites.

_Until Phil Coulson came knocking at her door,_ she thought darkly. 

He’d asked how she was. How Jane was. Asked after Erik. All those clipped little questions in that monotone voice, questions to which he’d surely known the answers, even then. He’d congratulated her on graduating, and then - the kicker - had asked if she’d had any job offers. S.H.I.E.L.D. was hiring, if she was interested.

She’d grasped at the opportunity, not knowing then what a limp little straw he’d offered. Even now, it stung to know that he was just defusing her, locking her up in a series of NDAs and policies, and then - dropping her. Sticking her right in the middle of a PR bureaucracy. Apparently, S.H.I.E.L.D. adhered heavily to the policy that loose lips sank ships. Furthermore, they never did anything worth sharing. No S.H.I.E.L.D. internships, community service projects, mission news. They had nothing. The MO at the time had seemed to be: Clean up what you can, and blame the Avengers for the rest.

She’d hated it. Granted, she was unaware that they had been infiltrated by an organization of terrorist fascists, but she really ought to have suspected. The cracking hadn’t just been for the extra cash; it had been her release, too.

But she didn’t think Coulson knew about it. So how did Pepper? Was she being manipulated again? Was this another way to remove her from...whatever it was they thought she could do?

She considered calling Jane. For one brief, white-hot second, she had her phone whipped out under the table in the library. It glowed momentarily, before she came to her senses.

No, calling Jane was not an option. But her mind kept echoing another comment of Pepper’s.

_“They were glowing, by the way. The references.”_

*****  
She called Pepper the next day, demanding (in a gentle, friendly, inquiring way) to know how she knew about the hacking.

“Well, Tony, of course.”

“Tony _Stark?”_

“You did some work on the Avengers’ website a few months back, right? Post-S.H.I.E.L.D.? Do you remember who hired you?”

“Yeah, he was verified to hire for the work though. Had a purchase order and everything. His handle was YouKnowWhoI _ohmyThor_. Why is Tony Stark handling contracting for security services?”

Pepper hummed at this. “Well, he would never do it for Stark Industries. The Avengers, though- the team is his baby. Or at least, the facilities and equipment are.”

“Lovely.” Darcy leaned back on her sofa. “Ms. Potts -”

“Pepper, please.”

“Pepper. I’ve gotta level with you. I’m having some trust issues with this - this whole enterprise. You’re offering me carte blanche to come in and do whatever I want to do. The last time I had any kind of employment worth speaking of, I ended up working for an organization that had been infiltrated by Nazis and was actively trying to murder my best friends.” She sighed, running a hand down her face. “Meanwhile, my other options for making ends meet are limited to being a barista and lowkey preventing corporate cyber-espionage. Which pays, don’t get me wrong, but the checks are few and far between. I feel like the situation here is a little...unbalanced.”

“Yes,” Pepper said faintly. “I can see how that would be concerning.” She coughed. Darcy heard a slight scuffle, the first hint of annoyance in Pepper’s voice, faded though it was as she seemed to have moved away from the phone. “Tony, no!”

“Lewis?”

Darcy mused on the oddness of hearing this voice on anything but a screen. “Do I know who this is?”

He didn’t even laugh. She was momentarily put out by that. “Darcy Lewis, the Avengers require your services. Are you really going to let them down? Your friend Thor? The world?”

Oooh, invoking Thor. That - that was great. He hadn’t read the file, had he? Or at least not between the lines. “Tell Pepper I’ll start two weeks from Monday, and I’ll take the PR position, and if I have to deal with YOU on a regular basis, my salary needs have increased.” She hung up. If they wanted to fire her for her mouth, well, it wouldn’t be the first time. She sat there, stewing for a moment, until she groaned. Redialing the phone, she sighed. “Hi, Pepper? Hey, what’s the dress code?”


	3. Chapter 3

The Avengers Tower was tall. Like, really really tall. Darcy couldn’t even take in the entire height of the building standing directly in front of it.

She’d seen the offices she’d be working from. 35th floor, with a view that was not too shabby. The offices were radically different from S.H.I.E.L.D.’s grim hallways and neon underlighting. Stark Tower had floor-to-ceiling windows and open concepts in every room that didn’t require confidentiality. She appreciated the natural light, if not the lack of privacy. With her new salary, she’d be able to invest in some noise-reducing headphones and blackout curtains.

She was not in charge of the PR department, thank Thor. Pepper had taken pains to further pin down her role, deciding on social media, which had been previously neglected, organizationally. Tony and Clint were the two most prolific if ill-advised users, with both Twitter and Instagram accounts. Spider-Man, whoever he was, had a presence limited to a trending hashtag ( _#wheresspidey_ ) and at least one really fervent fan account on Instagram, run by some teen in Queens. Lots of beefcake accounts for Captain America and Thor - Thor’s Twitter, while sporadically updated, was really quite charming. Darcy had laughed and laughed at his musings on Midgardian food, and then cried because she missed him so much.

It was strange, how much of an impact he’d made on her during her brief but intense time in his orbit. She wondered, stupidly, if he’d recognize her if ( _when?_ ) he saw her again, and then immediately put that out of her mind.

Her apartment was also an upgrade. The lodgings were higher than the commercial floors, with the highest floors reserved for the Avengers themselves. She lived on the 63rd floor of Avengers Tower, and the view dizzied her. She looked out her window, and peered across at the skyscrapers that surrounded her own residence. They glistened, or went gray, depending on the sunlight. She liked the variety.

Moving had been easy, due to the fact that Darcy didn’t really own any furniture she wanted to keep. Every stick of furniture in her previous apartment had been owned by the creepy roommate, or previously loved by someone who wasn’t Darcy. She boxed up her clothes and books and coffee mugs in coffee shop cardboard, and dented her credit card a tiny bit to purchase dishes, sheets, and a new mattress and bedframe. She wanted - more than anything - a fresh start.

She hoped she’d made the right decision.

The work itself started off slowly. The world didn’t almost end every day. It was on more of a quarterly basis. The Avengers would return home from some overseas op, Darcy would pester Tony for details, and she’d post a relevant photo - Tony, tired and dirty, emerging from the suit, walking from the Quinjet; Tony laughing on the landing pad, sunset behind him; Tony, suited up, drinking a daiquiri on the roof. It was a pattern she was hoping no one would notice.

So of course he did. “No way, Lewis,” he said as she approached him in the hall roughly three weeks in. “I’m roughly one-sixth of this little enterprise. Go shake someone else’s tree.”

“But -”

He started ticking off on his fingers. “Rogers won’t know you from Eve, but he’ll be polite. Banner, too. You’ll never find Clint or Natasha. Thor’s off-world. But -” At this he narrowed his eyes at her. “You don’t want to talk to him anyway, do you?” She gritted her teeth as he shrugged. “Rogers is your best bet.”

She stormed away, or, well, tried to anyway. “Hey Lewis,” he called after her. “Is it true _you_ tazed Thor?”

She stomped away, flipping the bird behind her as he barked a laugh.


	4. Chapter 4

Steve Rogers looked down at Darcy as one might look at a hissing kitten - amused, perplexed, but with no desire to get its claws hooked in you. It was a good look on him, and she didn’t doubt its genuity, but she was still pissed at Stark. No amount of 40s-style “Aw shucks” attitude was going to penetrate her ire.

“Captain Rogers.” He blinked. “I’m Darcy Lewis. I’m your - the Avengers’ social media director. Here, have a seat.” She pulled the chair out for him, and continued speaking. He was startled enough that he didn’t wait for her to sit before complying. “I’d like to know what you think your public image ought to be, and what kind of access you’re going to give me to make that happen. Of course -” Again, she continued talking, as his mouth opened and hung there - “You might not think you need a public image. You might think your work ought to speak for itself, and well, Captain, it certainly should, but it rarely does. You have Hydra and those pesky accords to fight; surely you don’t want to fight with the public as well?” There, just as she’d rehearsed, if a little breathless on the landing.

“Ms. Lewis.” She nodded. “I know who you are. I’ve read the records of everyone who has access to this facility.”

“Oh.” She deflated at this. A fresh start was starting to look less and less likely.

“I think it’s great that Pepper’s brought you on. You’re right that having the good will of the public is essential to our mission.” He was very earnest. Perversely, she found that irksome. She should have expected it, though; his first role as Captain America had been PR.

But still. She peered up at him intently. “And what is your mission, Captain?”

“Steve, please. And the Avengers - we - well, we…” His eyes glazed over. “We keep the world safe. We fight..together, usually. Well, sometimes apart, but those are fights we can take on individually. Usually, when we’re fighting together, it’s something none of us can handle on our own.” That was quite the word salad. Steve Rogers needed a script.

“Like Hydra?” The cogs in her brain were ticking.

He nodded, firmly. “Exactly like Hydra. Fighting Hydra is everyone’s duty.”

She blinked at that, and then leaned back in her chair, giving him a long, low whistle. “Listen to you. They hit the jackpot with you.”

He was taken aback at that. “Ms. Lewis?”

She shook her head at him, flapping a hand. “Darcy. Do you mean that?”

“Mean what?”

“Listen, please don’t take this the wrong way: you are a PR nightmare. You couldn’t verbalize your mission statement, but you can tell me, straight-faced, that everyone is honor-bound to fight Hydra.”

“Ms. Lewis, I take the Avengers’ mission very seriously.” He was starting to look a little pissed himself.

“I know you do. I can tell. Call me Darcy, Cap.”

He looked at her, and then sighed, resigned. She timed him: they’d been sitting at the table for eleven minutes. “Steve, then, Darcy.” 

*****

She didn’t know if she’d won him over yet, but Steve Rogers let her follow him around, more or less wordlessly, for the rest of the day. She’d snapped several photos of him interacting with other staff, him in the gym, him bantering with Tony (who’d given her such side-eye). Eventually, she decided on a picture of him pouring a cup of coffee in the breakroom for Linda, the receptionist. The two of them laughing, Linda’s arms extended with her mug, Steve practically towering over her as he poured from the carafe. She didn’t know how Steve wanted to be perceived, but she knew this was him.

She was wrapping up the social media calendar when a blur passed by her doorway. She was mid-stretch when the blur backtracked. Darcy’s eyes snapped to the door. There stood Clint Barton.

“Oh, hey, Lewis.” He lurched forward, hand outstretched. “Clint Barton. Hawkeye. Hey, great photo of Cap today. We were beginning to think you had a thing for Stark or something.” She cringed at that. He stood there awkwardly for a moment. “Anyway, nice pic.”

“Thanks. Oh, hey, Clint? Are you free tomorrow?”

He leaned against the door. “I could be. Why?”

She smiled. “I’d like to talk to you about archery. And...I don’t know, pick an animal.”

He arched an eyebrow. “Bat.” She just grinned at him.


	5. Chapter 5

Clint’s video, entitled “Which flies faster - Hawkeye’s arrow or a bat,” hadn’t exactly gone viral on Youtube, but Darcy was pretty proud of the numbers. She’d talked Tony into hiring an editor, and Mac had done such a great job, she kept him, visions of Avenger vlogs sparkling in her eyes. With that, Darcy began assembling a team of her own.

It hadn’t taken much effort to talk Tony into throwing the ice cream social. Dozens of tubs of ice cream of all different flavors and jars of toppings were spread on tables in the commissary. Darcy hovered there, waiting for her prey. 

She was not disappointed. It was midday when Natasha Romanoff strolled in, looking fairly incognito in dark skinny jeans, a nondescript leather jacket, and a busted Dodgers ballcap. Darcy waited until she had a cupful of pink ice cream and then strolled over.

“Hi Natasha!” She spoke as if they’d already been introduced, her insides quaking. Her iPhone was recording. “What’s your favorite flavor?”

For one hot second Darcy thought she was about to be disemboweled with a pink plastic spoon. Instead, Natasha merely arched one perfect eyebrow, proffered her cup, and said, “Strawberry.” With a smirk, she whirled away.

Darcy was satisfied. That was a pretty killer Instagram story, she thought, before turning away herself. And all of her innards remained there. She wondered if she could talk Clint and Cap into an ice-cream eating contest.

For charity, she mused.


	6. Chapter 6

The fifth Avenger required both the easiest and most delicate operation. When he was at the tower, Dr. Bruce Banner rarely left the confines of the research lab, unless it was to eat or sleep. 

Or meditate.

Darcy took her time with this one. No ice cream ambushes, no barreling into him on his way off the landing pad. No, this one, she wooed. She’d shown up at the lab one day, knocking gently (but not too gently, reminded of Jane’s selective science hearing) on the window. When he’d finally looked up, she’d pointed at the tea lattes she’d brought, and made the universal “you want one?” gesture. Bemused, he’d nodded yes, and with that, she’d let herself into the lab.

He hadn’t rolled his eyes or demanded she leave when she introduced herself. He listened patiently. She didn’t ask him for anything. They drank their tea companionably, and she left.

Until the next day, when she did it again.

By the end of that week, they were laughing together. She was telling jokes, stories of her time in Puente Antiguo and Tromsø, all the adventures she’d had with Jane and Erik. “Our labs were nothing like these,” she said, running her fingers idly over a nearby spectroscope. His eyes followed her fingers. “We were working out of some real shoeboxes.”

“I beg your pardon, Darcy, but, do you have a background in physics?” He spoke gently.

Her hand stilled. “No,” she said, pulling it away. “Political science. Not, like, real science.” His eyebrows went up at that. “I was the only one who applied for the internship,” she said defensively.

“Well, Dr. Foster was obviously happy with your work. Tony wouldn’t have hired you otherwise.”

She sighed. “Yeah, she was happy.” _Happy to be rid of me._ “Bruce, you know what I do here.”

“I do.”

“And you know what I’d like you to do?”

He hemmed at that. “Vaguely. You want me to put myself out there to the public. I’m sure you can understand why that’s difficult for me.”

She nodded. “It doesn’t have to be, though! I’d like to get a picture or video of you doing what you do anyway - just let the public in on a little tidbit of your day.” He looked skeptical. “You’re the only Avenger I haven’t featured.”

He sighed. “What do I have to do?”

“How do you feel about leading yoga?”

*****

Sunrise yoga with Dr. Banner had gone off mostly without a hitch. Darcy had promised him she’d limit it to the first ten staffers who signed up, and Natasha had taken care of eliminating any looky-loos. However, Tony Stark would not be deterred. He’d shared his schemes (using the suit, naturally) with Clint, who wisely tattled to Natasha, who threatened Tony in a manner that was both scary and vague.

So he’d only popped up for the last ten seconds, crashing the sunrise and the landing pad and the mood. Bruce had briefly gone a little green around the gills, excusing himself while everyone finished their Shavasanas. Darcy looked around for possible murder weapons.

Oh, sure, she’d smiled while everyone packed up and left, all smiles themselves. But the minute they’d all exited, she stomped over to Stark and whacked him across his metal bicep.

“Ow! Damn it!” She swore, immediately clutching her hand. He merely looked at her, shoving a donut in his mouth. “That was rude and - and extremely unwise! And where the hell did you get donuts?”

“Relax. Banner’ll be fine. Did you get your footage?” She nodded, slowly. She’d hired a new addition to her team, an actual videographer named Aarav. The plan was to have Mac edit the film into an actual yoga tutorial for YouTube. She’d also taken some photos for other sites. The photos would have been better with him by himself, but that wasn’t the picture of Bruce she wanted to put out there: alone, alienated. No, better to be surrounded by people enjoying the experience with him. And it had been great. Until the end. “Then you’re golden. Have a donut.”

*****

The next day, Tony did not seem surprised to find that Bruce had vacated the lab. “He’ll be back,” he’d shrugged. “He’s on walkabout. He does that occasionally.”

Darcy was distressed. “Did he do it because I - because I -”

Tony’s brow furrowed. “Because I crashed the party? Darcy, that’s not something you did. You know that, right? I mean, it’s my building. It literally has my name on it. You couldn’t keep me out if you tried, which, in fact, you did, and it failed.”

She was breathing a little heavily. “I promised him I’d make it easy.”

“You can’t promise that. And he knows that. He agreed anyway.”

“Why?”

“Because he trusts you?” Tony looked at her, and then sighed. “Listen, Lewis. I like having my people here. You think I maintain living quarters here because I really dig sleepovers? No. That’s part of it, but no, it’s mainly a security measure. I know where my people are, I know they aren’t being rousted and kidnapped in the middle of the night, I know they’re warm and safe and that they’ll be at work on time in the morning. But I can’t make them stay. I’m not in charge of that.” He procured a packet of peanuts from - somewhere. Darcy didn’t want to think too heavily on it. “And if Bruce wants to take a road trip, who am I to stop him?”

Darcy looked at him. As she was opening her mouth to ask a question, he quickly strode off. “Anyway, he’ll be back. See you later.”

And he was gone, but the question hung in the back of her brain, like a funeral suit.


End file.
